“Where did you come by this information?” Vraekae asked before Jadis could say anything. Though her words were directed at Sholto, her gaze was locked onto her cousin. “Eir has only recently unlocked her second class and my reports indicate it is a ritual-based priestess class.”
Sholto smirked as his fingers slid under a chain that hung around his neck. Pulling on it, he revealed an amulet that had been hidden under his robes. The gold device was a flat round disc with a hole in the middle. Something that looked a lot like mercury was contained behind glass inside the hollow middle. Intricate patterns were etched across the golden surface in a latticework so complicated it was hard for Jadis’ eyes to follow.
“Allow me to introduce you to Rowen’s Medallion of Truesight. Take a good look, you might never see it again considering it hasn’t left Destarious’ temple in Eldingholt in over seven hundred years.”
“You brought one of your order’s most sacred artifacts here?” Doru demanded, his brow creased with incensed fury.
“Considering the topic of conversation, I would say it was a prudent precaution. If she had turned out to be a Fetch that had somehow tricked the lovely magistrate, I wanted a way to track the dastardly miscreant.”
The way Sholto spoke it sounded more like he would have been proud of any Fetch that would have pulled the feat off, rather than upset.
“Irresponsible…” Doru shook his head, but Vraekae cut him off before the conversation could be further sidetracked.
“This is not the topic you indicated to me you would be bringing before the table at this meeting,” the magistrate frowned as she regarded Sholto.
“No, it’s not,” he shrugged. “But considering how the first topic went, I’m not interested in pursuing any further action with Fortune’s Favored at this time. No, the protection of an Oracle is of far greater concern, especially one that is dedicated to my patron deity! This young woman should be taken back to the temple to Destarious with all the haste of a drunk three cups too deep would be thrown out the door!”
At that declaration, the rest of the table startled like someone had put red hot pokers under their seats. All of their reactions were tinged with shock, but Jadis’ attention was drawn to the high priestess of Lyssandria sitting next to Eir. Aurea’s perfect mouth fell open in a surprised O as her face turned as white as a sheet. She stared at Eir with as much intensity as she had Jadis’ selves, though her attention was tinged with a great deal more confusion.
“Eir,” Vraekae addressed her cousin directly. “Do you deny High Priest Sholto’s claims that your second class is that of an oracle?”
Eir’s dark red complexion meant that she never looked pale, but Jadis knew her elven lover well enough to see when she was distressed. She was putting up a noble effort to remain composed, but her body was trembling with nerves.
Reaching over to her lover, Syd took Eir’s hand and held it firmly, willing all of her love and support into her through her fingers. Neither of them had expected Eir to be ambushed like this today, and by Vraekae’s reaction Jadis didn’t think she had anticipated this either. But Jadis was here for her, just as Eir was there for her.
“I do not deny it,” Eir replied, her voice hitching slightly. “My secondary class is an oracle class.”
There were murmurs from around the table, some too quiet for Jadis to pick out but she caught enough of them to get the impression that Eir’s class revelation was causing some major consternation and upheaval among the gathered high priests.
“And—and you aren’t an oracle dedicated to Lyssandria?” Aurea asked, her face a picture of crushed disappointment. “Are you not a Beloved Cleric of Lyssandria? How did you become attached to Destarious with enough passion to gain a class with his favor, much less that of an oracle of all things! That should not be possible! I do not understand!”
Eir opened her mouth to respond to the high priestess’ plea, but no words came out. Distress was written all over her face and Jadis could imagine why. Though Eir had willingly accepted her oracle class, she’d done so not out of a love for D, but of a love for Jadis. She’d always remained stalwart in her worship of Lyssandria and always presented herself as one of her followers. To have one of the most high-ranking religious figures in her faith call her dedication to their goddess into question had to hurt.
“That would be my fault,” Syd quickly said, catching Aurea’s attention away from Eir. “My patron deity is Destarious and that had an influence on her class options when she unlocked her secondary class.”
“You… Destarious?” Aurea’s tone was aghast. “You are not dedicated to Lyssandria?”
“No she is not!” Sholto crowed with delight. “She even has a class blessed by the mighty D! She’s one of mine, dear Aurea.”
The blonde priestess turned to look at the goblin, her face crestfallen. At the same time, Dys pointed a stiff finger at Sholto and growled with all the menace of a snarling manticore.
“I’m not your anything. We worship the same god, but I make my own decisions. Don’t start thinking I’m going to listen to you over anyone else.”
Sholto put up his hands before him, palms out as though he were fending off blows.
“No offense intended, of course!” he quickly said, though he seemed more apt to laugh than cower in fear. “But your fascinating class aside, I think our focus should be on the oracle in the room, shouldn’t it?”
From there a flurry of words began between the priests. To Jadis it was more like watching a table full of lawyers debating litigation than a liturgical discussion. Multiple different angles were examined in quick succession as the high priests talked, the topics varying in range from the status of the only other oracle currently known in the empire, a woman named Jocelyn, to the precedent of previous generations where more than one oracle was alive in the country at the same time. To Jadis’ surprise, all of the priests engaged in the debate heavily, even the ones she had gotten the impression were less than scholarly. It seemed even if individuals like Steingrimur and Lonan looked like working men, that didn’t mean that they weren’t trained as priests, nor did they fail to take the position seriously.
From the way they talked, Jadis got a better understanding of just how important oracles were to the empire. Avatars received instinctual guidance from their patron deities, but the guidance wasn’t always clear, nor reliable. Additionally, it was just gut feelings, not answers to precise questions. Those with a High Priest class had the potential to unlock ritual spells that would allow them to commune with the gods, but those rituals were usually only available at exceptionally high levels and weren’t a guaranteed unlock. Further, high priest communion rituals were limited in scope and usually had long cooldowns that could stretch for a year or even longer. An Oracle, however, could speak with the gods directly, or even allow others to do so. Precise questions, often more than one, could be asked and the answer was usually far more reliable.
The value placed on oracles wasn’t just from the perspective of gaining answers, but also from how dangerous they could be. An oracle could ask the gods for information on another nation’s military status, for example. A boon to the nation that had the oracle and a threat to the one whose military secrets had just been divulged. As such, the empire had a vested interest in making sure that any of their citizens who became oracles stayed citizens and weren’t taken by another nation. If an oracle were to fall into the hands of a hostile organization, it could mean disaster for the empire.
“The standard protocol used during the reign of Uthar the Blue should apply,” Myron argued once more, one of his many hands pointed at Vita. “A second oracle should be sequestered for the duration of the time the Hero’s oracle is in the field. Once Jocelyn is finished with her duties aiding the Hero, then protective measures can be relaxed. If Jocelyn should fall in the line of duty, Eir would need to be available to aid the Hero as a replacement.”
Jadis’ temper nearly boiled over at the thought of Eir being taken away from her, much less sent to “aid” the Hero. Jay bit her tongue, however, and refrained from bursting out in a rage. She’d already been schooled by Eir and the others to keep her outbursts under control during this meeting. As she’d already seen, it was better to talk things out with this crowd rather than escalate into shouting.
“I disagree,” Vita was saying to Myron’s insistent proposal. “The Hero’s Oracle is not a position that can simply be switched out like a candle that has burnt out. Besides which, Eir was given her oracle class because of her proximity to Jadis. That is a clear indication that she should remain with Jadis, regardless of what may or may not happen to Jocelyn.”
“I agree with Vita,” Aurea spoke up, having regained her composure some minutes ago. “In the previous case you point to, Myron, both oracles were dedicated to Charos. They were meant to walk the same path. Jocelyn is an Oracle of Valtar while Eir is an Oracle of—of Destarious. Their purposes are different.”
Aurea’s face had fallen slightly when she’d had to say which god Eir’s class was dedicated to, but in the next moment she turned and smiled kindly at Eir with an encouraging nod.
“While not irrelevant,” Oswin frowned in consideration, “I think we have strayed from the main point. As a citizen of the empire who has gained an Oracle class, the emperor has the right to reserve one question per ritual to ask for matters of state. Should he choose to exercise that right on a monthly basis as Eir has indicated is her cooldown period, then Eir would need to be located somewhere near the capital in order to fulfill her duties.”
“Speaking of which,” Lonan added as he leaned forward, “it’s the right of the temples to petition an Oracle for answers to questions as well. I’m not saying that we need to, or even should, but having the option is important. Now that doesn’t mean that you absolutely need to be relocated,” he said while looking Eir in the eye. “However, the responsibility having an oracle class gives you is a weighty one. I’m not sure having you all the way down in Weigrun is the right choice.”
“Could you not send emissaries to perform the ritual with Eir when needed?” Gerhardt asked. “So long as we know we can reliably find her in Far Felsen, I do not believe it would be that different a situation from what is currently the case with Jocelyn.”
“I would not perform the ritual with any emissaries the temple sends.”
Eir’s sudden exclamation brought the debate to a halt as all the priests turned to look at Eir. She sat with her back stiff, seemingly frozen in shock from her own outburst.
“Why not?” Lonan asked into the silence, one eyebrow raised in confusion.
“Yes, tell us, why not?” Sholto encouraged with a mischievous gleam in his eye.
Jadis hadn’t thought it possible, but Eir’s face actually managed to grow redder with an undeniable blush. For her face to darken like that, Jadis imagined the elf had achieved a blush of epic proportions.
“Because I will not perform the ritual with anyone other than Jadis.”
After a moment and an audible gulp, Eir added an additional stipulation.
“Also with Jadis’ other lovers.”
“Lovers?” Aurea and Oswin both said at the same time, though their tones were sharply different.
Before any further exclamations could be made, Vraekae loudly rapped her knuckles on the table, silencing the high priests. With an utterly deadpan expression on her face, the magistrate addressed her cousin with a command.
“Eir. What is the full name of your secondary class.”
“…It is Lustful Oracle of D,” Eir quietly answered, not meeting her cousin’s gaze.
As the priests had various reactions, Vraekae simply turned her eyes upon Jay.
“I assume your influence is responsible?”
All three of Jadis took a breath. She was finally being given an opportunity to make an argument and she wasn’t going to let it slip by. Listening to all the high priests debate each other for the past ten minutes had given her some idea of what talking points might sway some of them to her side when it came to Eir. She wasn’t going to be parted from her elven lover, and they were going to have the freedom to go where they chose. If she had to force the matter through violence, Jadis knew she had the conviction to do so. But if she could convince them with words, that would be the best result. And Jadis thought she knew the right words to use.
“Definitely my influence,” Jadis spoke in unison, nodding all three of her heads. “Let me be upfront with everyone here since I know you already know this, Vraekae. My secondary class is a ritualist class that requires sex to perform the rituals.”
“And before you,” Syd pointed at Sholto, “can say anything, the name of my class is Perverted Ritualist of D.”
“I don’t think it’s anyone else’s business, but at this point I’m beyond being embarrassed by the idea of strangers knowing about the nature of my class,” Jay shrugged one shoulder. “So yes, because I regularly perform sex-based rituals with Eir and most of the rest of Fortune’s Favored, Eir received a similarly themed class when she unlocked her secondary class slot.”
“And before you ask,” Dys addressed Myron, “the answer is no. No, she is not the only one to have been affected by my class and no, I will not tell you any further information about any of my companions who may or may not have classes that were influenced by me. That’s their private information.”
“What I do want to say though,” Jay continued, “Is that I am certain of the reason why being around me has influenced Eir and others in such a significant way. It’s the same reason why I am dedicated to D and not to Lyssandria.”
All three of Jadis once more spoke in unison, though Jadis made sure to use her Syd self to look Aurea directly in the eye.
“I was given a mission directly by Destarious to act on his behalf.”
The mood in the room shifted at Jadis’ words. Surprise, alarm, and caution all warred across the faces of those gathered.
“In what manner were you given this mission?” Oswin asked, his expression closed off.
“Directly. I spoke with him, without the use of an oracle.”
There was another brief silence, though only a brief one. It was shattered as Sholto once more jumped to his feet while slamming his hands onto the table.
“I knew it!” he shouted, wild-eyed and exuberant as his feet pounded on his seat. “I knew it! Destarious you bastard, I knew it!”
Jadis was taken aback by the goblin’s crazed outburst. She wasn’t entirely sure if it was happiness or anger that prompted it, Sholto’s shouts were so wild. The others didn’t seem overly concerned by the goblin’s behavior, though, and instead continued to focus their attention on her.
“What, exactly, was the mission he gave you?” Rhyswynn asked, her quiet voice barely audible over the goblin’s continued noise.
Jadis was strongly tempted to fudge the details. However, considering she was talking with people who potentially had the means to seek answers directly from the gods, she figured being forthright was the best course of action. Better to be upfront now with an uncomfortable truth than caught in a lie later.
“He asked me to make changes,” Jadis replied. “More specifically, to bring an end to the cycle of heroes and demons. He was purposefully vague in his directions and told me to make the choice for myself on how I went about it, so I’ve chosen to do everything I can to become powerful enough to stop any Demon Lord from ever invading Oros again. Ever.”
For the umpteenth time in their hastily gathered meeting, the high priests were silenced by another revelation. Even the trio of Vraekae, Gerhardt, and Egilhard were stunned, looks of complete disbelief frozen on their faces. Vraekae’s mouth was actually hanging open.
It was Steingrimur who spoke up first in reaction to Jadis’ bold claim. Taking a deep breath, he leaned back in his seat, brows furrowed and nose scrunched. He said one word.
“Bullshit.”
325